


You and Me, Bodie

by stew (julie)



Category: The Professionals (TV 1977)
Genre: Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1991-01-01
Updated: 1991-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:55:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23275120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/julie/pseuds/stew
Summary: Doyle’s two-week holiday is spoiled when he catches a bad cold. Bodie doesn’t have anything better to do after he breaks off with his current girl, so he stays at Doyle’s to take care of him. The two men muddle along together well enough, causing Bodie to reflect that this is maybe the only chance at domesticity either of them will ever have. Further reflections and ramifications ensue…
Relationships: William Bodie/Ray Doyle
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	You and Me, Bodie

**Author's Note:**

> **First published:** in the zine “The Hols of CI5” by Whatever You Do, Don’t Press in January 1991.

# You and Me, Bodie 

♦

Whoever it was, they were persistent. The phone must have rung twenty times as I lay in bed trying to ignore it, grudgingly decided to clamber out, then achingly negotiated the bedroom, hallway and lounge. “Yeah?” 

“Bodie here, Ray.” 

“What the hell do you want?” My grouchy tone must have surprised him, because I didn’t get a reply. “It’s not work, is it?” 

“No. Heard you didn’t go away after all.” 

“Got a rotten bloody cold, didn’t I? Great bloody timing, first holiday for a bloody year.” I expected him to ask if I’d got all that off my chest now. 

Instead, he said sympathetically, “You poor sod.” Then there was silence. 

“So why’d you ring?” 

“Thought you might like some company.” 

I almost laughed. “After fifty weeks of living in your pocket, you think I want to spend my two weeks’ holiday with you as well?” More silence. “Sorry, don’t hang up on me, Bodie. Feeling lousy. Wouldn’t make the best company myself right now. You’re better off away from my germs. And my temper.” 

“I’ll come over. Least I can make you tea. Anything I can get you on the way? The shops will shut soon.” 

I was really in two minds then – there were groceries and stuff that I needed, and I was in no state to get them myself. On the other hand, I didn’t really know if I wanted to see Bodie after fifty weeks straight. Even your best friend can get on your nerves when there’s no relief, and Bodie had never quite been my best friend. But the way he was hanging on the other end of the line, silently pleading to come over on whatever impulse of the moment was driving him, suddenly got to me in my soft spot. 

“All right.” I listed the groceries that I could think of, probably forgetting half of them. “And make that _two_ boxes of tissues.” 

“I’ll even get some medicinal brandy. See you soon, sunshine.” He sounded remarkably cheerful as he rang off. I groaned in reply. Then I staggered into the shower to try and make myself look and feel (and probably smell) a little more presentable. 

It was only when he rang the bell an hour later that I remembered what his plans for _his_ holidays had been. “What happened to the lovely Heather?” I asked as I swung open the door. Bodie had been planning on romancing her for the full two weeks. I had parted company with him, convinced that he was in serious danger of inadvertently popping the question. 

Bodie shrugged as well as he was able, having a grocery bag under each arm. “Got a bit tired of her. You know how it is – spend a bit of time together, all you do is get annoyed at all their irritating little habits.” 

Funny, I knew exactly what he meant. 

“I’m convinced that having four solid days together is the kiss of death for romance. Just a night every now and then, you know, or a weekend at the most… Ray, you going to let me in? These are getting heavy.” 

“Oh, yeah. Sorry.” He took the bags through to the kitchen, and I explained my absent-mindedness as I trailed along after him. “Always get like this when I’ve got a cold. All woolly-headed.” 

“Just as well we’re _not_ working, then.” 

“Hah. This comes off my sick leave, or I’ll have Cowley’s hide. I’ll get my two weeks’ holiday yet.” 

“Better you than me, mate. I wouldn’t want to try it.” He appeared at my kitchen door, packaged steak in one hand and carton of eggs in the other. “You eaten yet today? No? Small wonder you’re ill. There, you sit down.” 

I sat in the kitchen with him, to be better able to minimize the mess and fuss. He even made me a pot of tea while I was waiting. Impressed was an understatement. Especially when the meal turned out delicious. 

“Just what you need – plenty of protein.” He grinned at me. “Get a bit of padding round those ribs.” 

Despite that last comment, I found a genuine smile for him. 

There was nothing but a buddy movie on the telly that night. Bodie and I sat there, glued to the screen as it ran through the old formula – two guys who have nothing in common meet, hate each other, have to team up to save their world, and in the process become best of friends through a lot of gratuitous male bonding. 

“We used to be like that,” Bodie observed towards the end. “Hating each other.” 

“Some things never change,” I opined. 

“Leave it out. It worked for us, didn’t it? We’re buddies.” 

“If you say so.” To tell the truth, I _was_ heavily identifying with the movie and I didn’t want to let on in case he thought it was simply because I was attached to him. But then something reached out and grabbed me by the guts: the Bodie-one in the movie heroically got himself killed. 

“Good Lord, that’s a change from the old standard,” Bodie commented. “I thought Hollywood tended towards happy endings these days. You know, they walk off into the sunset, buddies for life. – Hey, what’s wrong?” 

The Doyle-one in the movie was being a man and bravely stifling his tears. My own throat had an unwelcome lump in it. “Nothing. Got a cold. Nose is running.” 

“What is it, mate? The movie getting to you?” 

“No.” But I had to glare hard at the telly and give myself an exasperated lecture to keep my eyes from watering. Hadn’t cried for years except for that time Bodie got himself knifed. It would be living hell to cry in front of him now without even the excuse of him pale and out of his element on a hospital gurney. 

“Sorry,” I said, finding a tissue to cope with an impending sneeze. “Always get emotional when I have a cold. Susceptible, at least. Doesn’t mean anything.” 

“Ray, sunshine.” To his credit, Bodie sounded touched and solicitous. If I’d had to guess beforehand at his reaction, I would have bet cold cash that he’d be laughing his head off by now. Instead, his amused tone had a fond ring to it. “You poor soul.” 

“Not just emotional, you know – more like _emotional_. Can’t help it. Know it’s silly.” 

“It’s not silly,” he murmured. Then, one arm around my back and the other hand tugging at my sleeve, he dragged me sideways so that I could rest my head against his shoulder. “There you go, mate.” He even leant his head down against mine, just for a moment. 

“Good for crying on, this shoulder. I mean, it would be if I ever needed it.” 

“Yeah, nice and broad. Sturdy. And yours to call on when required.” 

Funny thing was, after I’d finally regained full control of my tear ducts, and sat up to blow my nose again, I settled back into his arms and he kept holding me, tender as you please. It was nice, comforting. Especially as he only left me alone long enough to find that medicinal brandy he’d brought. He wouldn’t let me drink much, doing his mother-hen act, but the nip of alcohol and his arms produced a very warm and contented glow right inside me. The Doyle-one in the movie bravely walked off into the sunset alone. 

We watched a half-hour comedy show after the movie. Then, “Time for bed, sunshine. You need your rest.” 

True enough. I was happy where I was, but I was bloody tired, too. We stood, and he walked me into the bedroom. “I can take it from here, thanks,” I muttered. Then I yawned at the wrong time, which turned into a cough, so I didn’t get to say goodnight to him. I stripped off my clothes and fell naked into bed, listening to his tidy-up bustle out there in the living room and kitchen with a satisfied smile. He was a buddy, all right. I drifted off into a doze. 

And woke abruptly. It was dark and someone was getting into bed with me. “Bodie?! What the hell are you doing?” 

“It’s too late to drive home. Too much brandy, too.” 

“Get out of my bed! What do you think this is?” 

“Go back to sleep, Ray.” 

“How am I meant to do that with my bloody partner in my bed with me?” 

He gave an exasperated sigh. “Calm down, will you? What’s the problem? I don’t bite and I don’t snore.” 

“Well, I don’t sleep with men.” 

“Glad to hear it,” he said, amused. “Been worrying about you, sunshine.” 

“Bodie…” My most threatening tone. 

“So where would you have me sleep? Your sofa’s a two-seater, remember?” 

“The bathtub.” 

“Ray, be reasonable. Just let me kip here, all right? I won’t try to compromise your virtue, even if you beg me.” 

“Don’t flatter yourself,” I snapped. 

“Grouchy, too, eh?” 

“What?” 

“When you have a cold – woolly-headed, _emotional_ and grouchy.” 

“If you want to sleep with someone in that state, then that’s your problem.” I turned over with my back to him, taking most of the quilt with me. 

He sighed again, a sad little sound. “Goodnight, Ray.” But I ignored him. 

To my surprise, the next thing I knew was that it was just getting light. I would have sworn that I was too ill and irate to get much sleep, but the opposite was proved true. The problem now was the pre-dawn chill and the fact that my spare blanket had been abandoned in my hallway when I’d answered Bodie’s phone call the previous afternoon. I get thin-blooded when I have a cold. And too woolly-headed to thoroughly consider all the pros and cons of any particular dilemma that presents itself to my befuddled consciousness. Would I hop out into the bitter cold to rescue my blanket and then spend half an hour warming up again? Or would I simply snuggle up to the powerhouse of heat sleeping beside me? 

I sidled closer to Bodie, almost but not quite touching. _Warm._ He reached an arm across my waist. _Warmer._ I carefully shuffled further in. He murmured, “Babe,” turned towards me and gathered me up tight. _Warmest._ Relaxing, it was, my bear of a partner cuddled up around me, enveloping me, his breath deep and even in my ear. Even the fact that he was as naked as I was couldn’t phase me. I lost the chills and drifted back into blessed sleep. 

♦

When I woke again, I was alone, but the blanket had been found and tucked up around me. After madly sneezing and blowing my way through five tissues, I felt a little better, but it wasn’t exactly a full recovery. Growing bored, I pulled myself out of bed and into some clothes, and wandered out to find Bodie. To my amazement, my partner was washing up – not only the pans and dishes from the previous night, but all my accumulated mugs and bowls as well. He was even contentedly humming along to the radio as he did so. 

“Morning, sunshine,” he said cheerfully. “What do you want for breakfast?” 

“Depends what’s on offer.” 

He shot me a cheeky look, then relented and said, “Bacon and eggs. Coffee’s already on.” 

“Should have you play housekeeper more often.” 

“Sit down.” He waved me over to the table. “You must be used to seeing me do all the work after all these years.” 

“Ah… I only let you _think_ you do all the work, because I know how fragile that ego of yours is.” 

“Fragile, nothing – it’s alive and well and living in Paradise, thank you very much.” He put breakfast on, and when it was done we sat comfortably silent over that and a second cup of coffee. Bodie seemed sunk in some serious reflection, of which I soon knew the subject. “This is probably the closest to domesticity that we’ll ever get.” 

“What are you on about?” Big words at this time of the morning, I ask you. 

“You and me, like this, it’s the most we’ll ever have.” He let out a laugh and leant back in his chair. “We’re hardly the wife, two kids and house in the suburbs type, are we? Couldn’t be even if we wanted to.” 

“We knew that going in. Working for CI5 doesn’t leave much room for anything else.” 

“Yeah. The only agent I knew with a marriage that worked was Alan Norris – and I reckon that was only because Kym was a cop and knew the routine, the demands.” 

“She still had to resign when they had kids, though – I bet she wasn’t happy about that.” 

“See? We’ll never be settled like other people. Living in anonymous flats, that’s all, with no love or home or family.” 

“Except for each other,” I confirmed, quite able to see his point of view. Looking over at him, I could see that he was at his most serious and unsatisfied. “You must be getting old, mate,” I chided him gently, reaching to cover his hand lying on the table with mine. “You like CI5 best, I know you do, of all the things you’ve done. And not so long ago, you _liked_ all the birds, all the seductions and one night stands. ‘The thrill of the chase’, didn’t you call it?” 

“Yeah, must be getting old,” was his reply, along with a wry smile and the grasp of his hand. Then he bustled into activity again – “I’ll do you a load of washing.” 

“Why?” I asked suspiciously. “You never do your own. You send all yours out, don’t you?” 

“Never too late to house-train me,” Bodie declared. But the peaceful, precious domesticity of the morning didn’t last long. Bodie appeared in front of me with a pair of my jeans, heavily wet and covered in white fluff. “What did I do wrong?” 

I groaned. “You didn’t check the pockets – there must have been a tissue in one of the pockets.” 

“The whole load is the same.” 

“Do you know how hard that is to clean off?” I snapped. “And don’t think _I’m_ going to do it, you pillock.” Then I had a horrid thought, grabbed the jeans from Bodie and rifled through the back pocket. Sure enough, I found thirty pounds of newly laundered money, my CI5 ID all blurred and wrinkled in its plastic cover, and some nice bird’s phone number now an ink stain on a shredded bit of paper. “Now that really takes the cake.” 

“Sorry, mate.” 

“I’ll make you sorry, all right.” 

“Give me a break – just trying to help.” 

“Yeah? Which bit do you want me to break?” 

“Ray,” he ground out, a curious mixture of anger and disquiet. “If you don’t want me here, you’re on your own. If that’s the way you want it.” 

“After you’ve sorted out my laundry.” 

“You’re a hard-nosed bastard.” 

Funny, every time he’d said that to me before, he’d sounded admiring. Maybe because I was rarely hard-nosed with him. “Love me or leave me,” I quipped. Could never stop pushing the man once I got through to him. 

“Leave you,” he said, words hard as bullets. And he stalked out of my flat, slamming the door shut on the way. 

“Bodie, you bastard,” I yelled out, not really meaning for him to hear me, tears threatening to well up in me again just as they had the previous evening. I picked up my jeans where they’d fallen, kicked aside the ruined ID and money, and headed for the utility room. “You bloody ungrateful moron. You rotten, sodding excuse for a partner. Death’s too good for you.” Imagining all the fates bad enough for him gave me the energy to cope with the load of washing. And I ended up laughing at my inventiveness with an edge of exhausted hysteria, until I remembered that I couldn’t share the joke with Bodie. 

♦

It was two hours before he showed up again, part sheepish and the rest resentful. “Just trying to do the right thing,” he said as I let him in. “Can’t blame me for trying.” 

“Yeah, you’re very bloody trying,” I agreed drily, but he could tell I’d used up my anger. 

“Come on, Ray, I was doing all right until the laundry.” And Bodie smiled at me, tentative at first, eyebrows slowly lifting in his best _I’m-a-rogue-and-you-can’t-help-but-love-me_ look. 

I must have been having an _emotional_ turn at the wrong moment. “Yeah, you were doing all right,” I said softly, not even managing to sound grudging. Bodie was standing close to me like he often did whether we were alone or not, closer than I let anyone else ever get without my hackles rising. He lifted a hand to my shoulder, lightly caressed my skin through my shirt with the flat of his palm – again, nothing unusual when it came to Bodie. But I remembered how he’d held me the previous evening, just to comfort me, and then for no reason at all. Which had been thoroughly unexpected, and extremely pleasant. 

“Above and beyond the call of duty, mate,” I said, and stepped near to hug him around his waist, tucking my head in against his shoulder to avoid looking at him. And I couldn’t remember the last time that it had been me initiating the physical contact that was familiar between us. Maybe that was why he was slow to tighten his arms around me. It was nice, then. Reassuring. _Warm._

“You’re not grouchy at me anymore,” Bodie observed after a while. “You going to let me stay over? Keep you company?” 

“If you can stand me.” 

“Stand you?” Bodie chuckled. “It’s not a question of that.” 

“You already walked out on me once.” 

“Love me or leave me, you said.” He was silent for a while, but I didn’t pull away. It had been too long a time since another human being had held me with such friendly generosity. And in a very matter-of-fact voice, Bodie finally added, “Love you, that’s what I should have said.” 

“Yeah?” Those bloody tears seemed determined to make a fool of me, but I ruthlessly swallowed them back down. I could survive _emotional_ , but damned if I was going to allow _sentimental_ to take hold of me. Then Bodie’s embrace claimed my attention again. He’d slipped from friendly to encompassing, maybe instinctively, holding me now in the same way that he’d drawn me to himself in his sleep early that morning. And there was a confusing urge in me to push closer, to stretch and rub and butt up against him like a cat would. So, finally, I pulled away before I really embarrassed myself – unable to look at him until I thought of his possible reactions to me purring in his arms. I found a bubble of laughter within me, and used it to shake off some of the confusion. 

“Time for a cuppa, mate,” Bodie was saying cheerfully, heading for the kitchen. I trailed after him, sat at the table, blew my way through a couple of tissues and slumped in self-pity as I realised I still had to face a slow journey back to health. From behind me, Bodie let out a soft laugh. I felt his hand on my shoulder again, then as he stepped closer, it slid down to my chest and his other hand ruffled gently through my hair. “God, is this all I’ll ever have? I pictured…” 

“What?” 

“Don’t know exactly.” He laughed again, sounding surprised at his admission. “Never came close to finding the right bird for the long haul.” Bodie’s hands moved on me, firmer than a woman’s caress, surer. “Maybe I knew it was you all along,” he suggested, a lightly ironic edge to the bantering tone. “Pity to argue and snipe at each other, if so. Don’t mind you being nasty when you don’t mean it, but…” 

“Inevitable,” I informed him. “Take turns at being obnoxious, we do, and the other’s always nasty in response.” But I let my head fall back against the warm tautness of his stomach. 

“Nice. Should have colds more often, you should.” 

“Some mate you are. I’m miserable, if you hadn’t noticed.” 

“Grouchy and woolly-headed, I’m used to. _Emotional_ as well is nice.” 

“Enjoy it while you can,” I said flatly, “because I’m heading for a full recovery any week now.” 

“All right,” Bodie said, as the kettle threatened to boil over. He made us a pot of tea. “All right,” he said again, thoughtful. 

I felt colder without his hands on me, but not for long. That day, he was touching me or holding me at every opportunity. Sweet, he was. Kept me feeling _emotional_ , so I never did get back to grouchy. I lay back in his arms on the sofa that evening, watching another movie on the telly. Bodie had found my bottle of Scotch and was rapidly progressing to mellow. 

“So what really happened with the lovely Heather?” I asked as the movie was interrupted by another round of commercials. “I thought you were pretty serious about her. Figured she was going to become a fixture in our lives.” 

“No fear of that,” he said. 

“She wasn’t what you pictured for your happy ever after?” 

“Thought she might have been the one I could put up with, but she sure proved me wrong quickly enough.” Bodie shifted and I imagined the frowning face turned towards me. “She was just a bird, you know,” he said simply. 

“Not from the way you were talking about her, back at work. A cut above the average, from the sound of it.” 

“Maybe, but when it comes down to it, they’re all just birds – you do the big seduction number, and lay them, and then what?” 

“Thought you loved her,” I said. “Or at least in danger of it. Love is the ‘then what’.” 

Bodie sat quiet for a while, lifting a hand to absently run through my hair again and again. Finally, he said, “Long time since I was in danger of that, Ray. Long time.” 

“Come on, don’t give me the hardened merc attitude. You could love someone. Don’t forget I’ve seen through to the heart of gold you keep locked away safe in that gun-metal chest.” 

“Yeah – you’re not just some bird though, are you? I mean, around you, I don’t just switch into the same old routine.” 

“A different routine for me, maybe.” 

“Never when we’re working – we’d be dead if that became a routine. At home, maybe. But not all the time, and not right now. This is _me_ , Ray, the domestic Bodie, as near as damn it – love me or leave me.” 

I twisted my head around to look at him, and his expression was distant, a little afraid, the way he’d be when he confronted some internal muddle. “Love you,” I said, and he focussed on me again. “You coming down with this cold, too?” 

“Must be,” Bodie said absently. And his eyes shifted from mine down to my mouth as he bent forward a little to meet it with his. And Bodie kissed me, lips sweet and gentle. 

“What was that for?” I asked as he broke away. 

“Don’t know, mate. Just felt like it. OK?” 

“OK.” I turned back around to watch the telly, and Bodie held me close again, encompassing me with his welcome warmth. 

“Past your bedtime, isn’t it?” he observed after a while. 

“I guess us poor convalescents need our sleep.” 

But as I moved to get up, he wouldn’t let go. “Going to let me sleep with you again, Ray?” 

“Depends if you’re going to try compromising my virtue, I suppose.” I looked around at him, saw him all confused and wary. “Oh, sod it, come to bed. If we go now, we’ll even get an hour’s beauty sleep.” 

“Not that some of us need it,” Bodie retorted immediately, his usual cheek. I shot him a grin, and we headed for my bedroom. More comfortable with Bodie there than I had been the previous night, I let him cuddle up to me right away, let him press a kiss into my hair. “Goodnight, Ray.” 

“Night, Bodie.” And I fell headlong into a deep, peaceful sleep. Not so, my partner. 

I came to, with my bedside clock glowing _1:42_ , and knew immediately that he was still awake. “Bodie?” 

“Hush… go back to sleep, Ray.” 

“What is it? What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing,” he said gently. I shifted a little and he eased himself close, fitting around me. “Go on, don’t let me disturb you.” 

“I’m wide awake. Talk to me.” His only reply was another kiss pressed into my hair, and a settling down shuffle. “Come on, Bodie, you don’t fool me for a minute. Something’s going on in that head of yours, I can hear the rattling from here.” 

“You need your sleep or you’ll be even grouchier tomorrow.” 

“You want me grouchy _now_? Anyhow, you made sure I rested all bloody day, I don’t need my sleep right this moment. So talk to me.” 

He was silent for such a long while that I began to wonder what on earth could be bothering him. Eventually he asked, “You remember I told you that I was in the mob for the money?” 

“Yeah. Didn’t believe you, given our salary. Unless Cowley gives his favourite an annual bonus.” 

“Unfortunately, being the best doesn’t entitle me to a pay increase. I have to make do with what little verbal recognition I can worm out of him.” 

“You poor unappreciated soul. So why are you in the mob, then?” 

“Made a lot of money in Africa and all, still got some of it salted away. And I could have made more the same way over here. But it was dangerous.” 

“So you came back to England and joined the army for a better chance at seeing thirty?” 

“Yeah. The right side of the game’s less risky. And I got homesick for England, too. Left it at fourteen, for god’s sake.” 

“Same game, but on the right side? Always suspected you had a streak of altruism buried somewhere deep.” 

“Altruism, like hell. Wanted something out of it. Thought there had to be a reward if you chose the right path.” 

“Life’s not that fair.” 

“Learnt that pretty quickly.” Bodie shifted a little, leant his forehead against the back of my head. “But I just started thinking maybe I’ve got that reward, after all. Been sitting right under my nose the last few years.” 

I frowned into the darkness. “What?” 

“Christ, Ray. Are you being deliberately obtuse?” 

Well, I kind of suspected the direction he was going with this, but I wasn’t going to make a fool of myself by misjudging how far he’d take it. “Maybe I want to hear you say it,” I told him. “Makes it real then.” 

Bodie let out an unsteady breath. “Was starting to give up on ever getting a reward, not in this life – and I don’t believe there’s any other, don’t believe in heaven or hell. Or I thought maybe my reward would simply be a quick death instead of a slow one, or Cowley saying something over my grave that I’d never hear, or maybe never having to grieve over a friend’s death because I’d never have a friend in the first place.” 

“Bodie…” 

“But I’ve been thinking that as far as rewards go, Ray, you’ll do.” 

“Thanks a million,” I said. 

“Had a lot of things in my short life, but mates haven’t been one of them.” 

“Realised that, the way you’d tread on my toes one minute and be holding me off at arm’s length the next.” 

“Glad you found me amusing,” he said drily. 

“Don’t go getting all miffed. If you must know, I’ve been without mates a time or two myself. Someone to share things with, to rely on, that’s important. You know what I go through – you go through it, too, and we don’t have to talk about it, but it helps that you’re there.” 

“That’s what partners are all about, aren’t they?” 

I laughed. “I’ve had partners, mate, but they don’t often come quite like you.”

“Yeah?” I smiled at how much smugness Bodie could pack into one word. “Reckon you won the lottery, getting me for a partner.” 

“I drew the short straw and you know it, Bodie.” 

“You say that to me after today? After I pampered you within an inch of your life?” 

“It was true. You were one hell of a challenge – that’s how Cowley told me to think of you. But I tamed you, refined you.” 

“Into what?” He let out a grim laugh. “London’s a jungle, too. War all feels the same, no matter where it’s fought. I haven’t changed so much. No need to.” 

I reserved judgement on that – he certainly hadn’t been partner material when I’d met him, but while we’d never been best friends, I’d known for years that I’d have to go a long way to find another partner as good as Bodie. It was inevitable that both of us had changed in some ways. I lay there still, silent in his embrace, puzzling over our chalk-and-cheese partnership for the first time in far too long. Wouldn’t do to grow complacent, to take Bodie for granted, to feel that I knew all there was to know about him, not in our line of work. Keep the relationship alive, and we each stood a better chance of it, too. 

“Ray,” Bodie said, soft in the darkness, pulling me out of my contemplations. “Look at me.” I turned my head towards him and he drew away from me, lifted himself up on one elbow to look down at me. There wasn’t quite enough light in the room to make out his expression. He whispered, “I want to kiss you again.” 

God knows why, but I stayed where I was and let my eyes close, which was as much of an invitation as he needed. His lips settled against mine, tender, sweet. And as I began to return his kiss, he moaned, convulsively tangled the fingers of one hand into my hair, let the tenderness slowly grow to a passion that I couldn’t help but answer. 

If I hadn’t been in Bodie’s arms for the majority of the last twenty-four hours, relaxed and thoroughly comfortable, maybe even _his_ solid sensuality wouldn’t have stood a chance. As it was, Bodie utterly swamped me. He tugged me towards him, rolled me over onto my back. Then his hands, almost rough in their eagerness, explored my chest, my face, my arms, leaving tingling-aware nerve endings in their wake. His mouth devoured mine until my lips felt bruised and swollen, before unerringly targeting a particular spot along my jugular vein, then moving to suckle at each of my nipples in turn. That last made me cry out in protest, as I’d never before realised how sensitive they were. 

But through all this, though I was as excited as I’d ever been, I didn’t move a muscle, I didn’t touch Bodie. Kneeling close beside me, bending over me, all I felt of him were his mouth and hands. The quilt was all rucked up around him, letting in the cold air, but I was beyond caring. My acquiescence seemed to be all the encouragement he wanted. 

Finally, his hand settled on my cock, found a rhythm that had me muttering incoherent encouragement, thrusting my hips up away from the bed in blind search of relief, unheeding of who or what caused it. I was ready to come within moments, too tired and hungry to try to spin it out, to try to deny how potent an arousal he’d teased me into. Wondering vaguely if he’d started deliberately turning me on from the moment he’d returned that morning. 

Bodie murmured my name as I climaxed, sounding delighted, and he gathered me up in one arm to hold me tight through all my shaky, sweaty denouement, his other hand cupping my cock and balls. As I quietened he lay me down again, stretched out beside me. 

“That was nice,” I managed to say some while later. He’d buried his face in my hair, lips occasionally brushing my ear, and he rubbed me with his nose as I spoke. “But I’m a sick lad. I don’t think I have the energy to return the favour.” 

That brought him up on his elbow again. “Just lie there,” he said, a little breathless. “Maybe kiss me a little. I’ll do the hard work myself.” 

“Never knew you were so kinky, Bodie,” I said. He chuckled, sounding part ironic and part choked up. “But you’re nice in bed, anyhow,” I told him, deciding he deserved the truth. 

“Yeah? Then you’ll let me… just let me…” 

I lifted a hand to the back of his head, ruffled his cropped hair, pulled him close for a kiss. And he shifted, lay half across me, pressed his cock against my hip, rubbed it rough on me with his hand. He brought his thigh up between mine, and I let my hand slip down to it, caress the long fine muscles that tensed below the satin skin. 

Bodie broke our kiss abruptly, throwing his head back with a yell as he came, seed hot across my groin. Strangely intimate, to have another man’s semen on me, something that I’d never thought to feel my whole life through. He hid his face in my hair again, lying heavy on me, muttering, “Dear god, Ray, dear god…” 

I stroked at his hair, his shoulders, replying inanely, “It’s all right, sunshine, it’s all right now.” He lay quiet for a while, but his silence was peaceful. “Can you sleep now, Bodie?” 

“Yeah. How about you?” 

“Bloody exhausted, mate.” He chuckled, shifted to lay beside me, and we both slipped into sleep. And Bodie haunted all my dreams that night, I’m sure of it. 

♦

I woke alone again, late the next morning, aching and irritable. Bodie, to judge from the smug note to the singing audible from the shower, was in fine spirits, which unreasonably made me even grouchier. I headed for the bathroom and, giving in to overwhelming need, ignored him and took a piss. 

“Morning, sunshine!” Bodie cheerily cried. “Water’s hot – want to join me?” 

“Sod off.” And I headed for the kitchen, grabbing a bathrobe on the way. 

Bodie eventually wandered in, a smile on his face that looked like he couldn’t wipe it off if he tried, and helped himself to the pot of tea that I’d made. 

“You want to explain what happened last night?” I ground out over the fist of anger in my chest, ruining the effect with a raucous cough. 

“Lord, I’m glad you don’t smoke. You always sound that bad with a cold?” 

“Bodie…” 

He shrugged, sat in the chair opposite me. “What’s to explain?” 

“What do you mean, ‘What’s to explain’?” I asked indignantly. 

“It just happened, that’s all. No big deal.” 

“How long did you have that planned?” 

“Didn’t plan it. Didn’t even think about it. Just felt like it at the time.” 

“When are you going to learn to think, Bodie?” 

“I’m the fool who rushes in,” he said with a grin. “You never changed that.” 

“God, if you were anyone else, I’d kill you for this. Slowly and painfully.”

“Playing the deflowered virgin now, are we? No need to be quite so melodramatic about it, sunshine.” 

“Sod off, Bodie.” 

“So pretend it was your own hand that brought you off.” Bodie shrugged, before adding with an evil grin, “And I was just a fantasy your wicked subconscious sprang on you.” 

“Why the hell would I fantasize about you, Bodie?” 

“Look, it was fun,” he said, finally sounding annoyed with me. “You even told me it was nice afterwards. Where’s the harm in it? Never knew you took sex so seriously.” 

“It wasn’t ‘just sex’ – it was sex with my partner, sex with another man.” 

“Yeah, it was those things, too,” he said quietly, looking away from me. After a moment, he asked, “Want some breakfast?” 

“You expect me to have an appetite after all this?” 

But he stood, busied himself with making more tea, frying up his usual mess of bacon and eggs, burning two lots of toast before he got it right. And all the while he had that distant, puzzled look on his face that meant he was trying to sort something out. I was silent, watching him, unwilling to try and unravel my own muddled reactions. 

Over breakfast, I asked, “You’ve done it before? Sex with other men?”

Bodie came as close to blushing as I’d ever seen him. “Not really. A few times – five or six times maybe, I don’t remember exactly. Didn’t even do as much as we did last night.” 

“In Africa?” 

He shifted in his seat, uneasy, trying to avoid my gaze. “There were birds around, mostly, or you went into town every week or so if you were in the bush. I got lucky a lot, was never really desperate. But sometimes, if there was a chance, a little privacy, if another guy offered… Sometimes I let it happen.”

“But what did you do if it wasn’t like last night?” 

“Never in a bed, with a mate, never good like that, that’s what I meant. Just a bit of relief and forget about it afterwards. God, Ray, work it out for yourself, why don’t you?” 

“How am I meant to do that? I don’t have the first idea!” 

Bodie suddenly grinned. “I know. Sometimes I’ve thought it might be fun to do it with you. But I could never quite imagine it actually happening, what kind of situation it would take to get you wanting it, too…” 

“You _did_ have it planned, you bastard.” 

“No, you prat, I just thought about it occasionally. Didn’t even have it figured exactly what I wanted to do with you. Then yesterday, you said enjoy it while you can, so I decided to make the most of it, the way we’ve been together, touching and all. I didn’t plan it would go that far, but I’m glad it did. Was nice.” 

“Is that your only excuse – wilfully misinterpreting something I said? Lord, I should…” I ruefully thought of all the dark fates that I’d imagined for him the previous morning. “That wasn’t an invitation. I never meant anything by it, as you damn well know.” 

“Maybe you didn’t, but it still got me wondering. And the way you held me, Ray – but you’ll probably deny it now.” 

“Deny what?” I asked suspiciously. 

“You’re a sensual creature. When I touched you yesterday, you responded to me, more and more, like I was turning you on. You’ll probably never let me touch you again, now.” And he sounded sad about that. 

I was silent for a while, and he watched me, his expression open and unassuming and a little melancholy. Finally, I said, “I don’t deny it.” 

He smiled. 

“And it was nice,” I added. 

Bodie stood, reached to ruffle my hair, then went to wash up. All that morning, I watched him as he tidied up, righted all the books and magazines I’d flipped through and dumped, took the garbage out, even ran the hoover around, his humming all the while punctuated with my coughs and sneezes. I lazed back on the sofa, eyeing him from a new perspective. And realising things, like the reason that his arrogance about his looks had never really bothered me was because I agreed that he was beautiful. And that I’d long been aware of his body, not merely as an object that I worked with, but as a being as sensual as myself. And that I loved him with far more than the easy camaraderie that I’d had with Sid Parker or any of the others I’d been partnered with. And it all felt strangely like coming home. 

At some stage, I stood and walked over to him, slid my arms around his waist. 

“What’s this, then?” he asked, smiling. 

I ducked my head into his shoulder and planted a kiss against his neck. “Thought we might have a bit of a fling, Bodie. Might as well make the most of me being confined to bed.” 

“Sounds good to me, sunshine.” I liked the ring of satisfaction in his voice. “Come on, then, and I’ll tuck you in.” 

“I’ll bet you will.” He followed me into the bedroom, and we each got rid of our own clothes, scrambled in from either side of the bed. And when we met, something like shock coursed through me. I wound my arms around his neck and shoulders, started a passionate kiss that lasted the loving through. Bodie held on around my waist, rubbed his glorious body up against me. There was all the self-consciousness and clumsiness of a first time, but there was a beautiful simplicity about it all, too, as if this was what we should have been doing all along. We found a rhythm between us, and soon Bodie was coming, thrusting his cock against me alongside mine and reacting in long, helpless shudders. I rolled him over onto his back before he’d had time to quieten, and brought myself off between his powerful thighs. 

“You’re the devil incarnate,” Bodie told me admiringly when he had the breath for it. 

“Me? I’m the innocent party. You’re the one with the disreputable past.” 

“Don’t, Ray – that’s got nothing to do with us.” 

“All right,” I said, because he sounded almost hurt at the mention of it. I didn’t shift from my contented sprawl, letting his lungs cope with breathing as best they could. Suddenly, I laughed. “And this is all we’ll ever have,” I repeated with mock dismay. “You and me, Bodie.” 

“You don’t make it sound like it’s worth having.” 

“Honestly? It’s nice, like you said. You’re nice to have sex with.” 

“Just a fling, then? For the holidays – ten more days.” 

“And ten more nights,” I added. Then I lifted my head as something occurred to me. “Do I detect a note of disappointment?” 

Bodie looked at me warily. “Why would I sound disappointed?” 

“Don’t know. Unless you want more than a holiday fling.” 

“Anything else on offer?” Bodie made his words sound like bartering banter, but I could read a yearning in him, and found an answer to it within my own heart. 

“You and me, sunshine. All we’ll ever have, all we’ll ever need,” I promised. 

Bodie let out a frustrated groan, tightened his arms around me like he’d never be able to bring himself to let go. “Can’t even have that. Leaves us with nothing. Cowley would skin us alive if we tried it.” 

“No,” I said fiercely. “It’s always been just the two of us. Our partnership was Cowley’s little joke – but _we’re_ the ones who made it work and, damn it, he can take the consequences or I’ll know why. We’re on our own, mate, and you remember that.” 

“We can’t get away with hiding an affair like that,” Bodie protested. “He knows us – he knows _me_ too well. And we owe him, however you look at it.” 

“So we make the most of these holidays together, and when we’re back at work, we keep it strictly business. God, for all that, you used to touch me every time we walked out through Cowley’s office door anyhow – you _stop_ touching me and see if he notices _that_.”

Bodie remained unconvinced, distantly mulling over Cowley’s likely reaction. 

“If _we_ can’t sort it out, no one can. Isn’t it worth a try?” I pleaded. “The way I feel right now, it could be worth everything, lover.” 

Bodie’s attention swung back to my face with an almost audible snap. For a moment that seemed to stretch through all time, we gazed at each other. Then he brokenly said, “You’re serious, aren’t you, Ray?” 

“Deadly serious. You and me, Bodie. Want to give it a go?” 

Bodie clutched me up close and gave a strange, gulping laugh, as if he couldn’t quite believe that this was happening. Then he groaned, “Dear god, sweetheart.” Which I took to mean _yes_. “Dear god!” 

♦


End file.
